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justdontaskme · 8 months

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A Promise to Keep (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A/N: Hello! I got a request and a sudden spurt of inspiration. If seems a little all over the place, I apologize, I wrote it quickly in one sitting and feel like it might be the best it'll get. Please let me know what you think or anything else you want to see.

After your morning training session, all you really wanted to do was to head home and cuddle with Nala until your second session later today. So, you bid your teammates farewell with a promise to see them later.

Preseason had been going well, but it was quite obvious the number of gaps missing as many of your players were still out representing at the World Cup. Speaking of missing players, your phone started ringing just as you entered your apartment. You placed your bag down, scooping up Nala as you made your way over to the couch.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia greeted you over the phone, a tired but happy smile on her face at finally seeing your face today.

“Hi, Ale. Say hi to mama, Nala,” you said, grabbing one of Nala’s little paws and waving it at the camera. You listened as Ale talked to Nala all about what she had done today and how much she missed her.

Eventually, Nala got bored, and you placed her back on the floor to roam the apartment. You turned sideways, using the arm of the couch as a backrest, pulling your feet up to stretch across the seats.

“Are you okay, Ale?”

“I wish you were here,” she mumbled, and even though you knew it wasn’t meant with any malice, you couldn’t help but detect that tone of bitterness in her voice, just hitching at the very end.

You sighed deeply, not really wanting to replay a fight you two have been enduring for the last few weeks now.

“I miss you,” you said instead, trying not to feed into another inevitable fight. “Enjoy this while you can, you’ll be home soon.”

“I’m here, and you’re there. How am I supposed to enjoy this when you are sitting back home when you could have been here.”

“Ale,” you started, your voice soft and gentle, trying to soothe her before she worked herself into a frenzy. “This is your moment, don’t worry about me.”

“But this is supposed to be our moment,” she said, her voice raising slightly. “You and me. It was supposed to be us. Now, I’m here by myself.”

“You’re not alone, Ale,” you reminded her, asking her to lean on her teammates for strength in this monumental moment.

“It’s not the same, and you know it. We made a promise.”

You turned the phone away from yourself for a second, allowing your face to fall forward into your knees. She was right. The two of you had made a promise to each other that you would do whatever it takes to be on the grandest stage of the World Cup together.

“I know, but you and I both know why I’m here. I’ve made peace with this situation. I hate it, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

“Not even to be with me?” Alexia knew she was selfish and wrong for asking that, but she had been struggling to really find her footing this tournament, and to have you thousands of miles away wasn’t helping. Her feelings were taking over. She felt like she was floundering, one second away from drowning every step of the way.

“Ale, as much as I’d love to be there with you, I can’t put myself in that situation again. Not unless things change,” you said.

While you loved and enjoyed your time on the national team, there was so much going on behind the scenes that many people didn’t know about. Unfortunately, it had taken a huge mental toll on you, a toll you were still paying to this day and maybe for the rest of your life.

“You always said you and I could get through everything together. Why is this any different? Why can’t we get through this together?” Her voice was strained and you knew she was not going to back down on this tonight.

“Alexia, let’s not go down this road tonight. You have a big game tomorrow. Let’s not do this right now.”

“I’m suffocating. I feel like I can’t even take a step without everyone criticizing my form and my right to be here. And now I’m here telling you that I need you, and you just push it aside,” she yelled, causing you to almost drop your phone.

“Hold on, Alexia. That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.”

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth. You know I hate when people do that,” you warned her, feeling yourself slowly losing your temper as well.

“And I hate when people go back on their word, yet you did and I let you.”

That stopped you for a moment. Everything Alexia has been saying all made sense. But you couldn’t just take a whole month off especially with preseason starting just to follow her halfway around the world.

It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty for not being there when she needed you. Since she had gone, the time difference had really made its mark on your relationship, speaking much less often than normal. Calls were either less frequent or shorter in comparison to the ones just before the group stages started.

You hated yourself for not noticing how much Alexia was apparently struggling throughout this month apart. Each call you remember trying to comfort and reassure her you were her biggest fan, but she didn’t just need some to believe in her, she needed your full support in fighting the demons in her heads that have been there since she went down before the Euros.

“Ale,” you tried to form a coherent sentence. One that was genuinely what she needed to hear without feeling forced.

“No, you know you were right. I have a game tomorrow. I should get some rest.”

Before you could say anything else, she hung up on you. You tossed your phone to the other side of the couch, sitting in silence as the pent up anger from this and previous fights coupled with an insurmountable amount of guilt bubbled inside of you.

****

From your seat next to Patri, your hands curled into fists when you saw Alexia being subbed off, knowing that she wasn’t happy with the decision, and even worse, she’ll be upset with the way she had played with the limited minutes she had.

You started to worry and feel a twinge of guilt, wondering if your fight last night had anything to do with her performance today. You quickly shook your head, tossing the idea out of your head and reminding yourself that Alexia was a professional and she wouldn’t let something like that mess with her game. She must just have had an off day.

Things from the night before were still unresolved, but you hoped that it would all work itself out when you spoke to her later.

It was a bittersweet win. You were in tears seeing the absolute happiness on the players’ faces, especially Alexia’s, yet when you turned to Patri and Mapi, you knew they already understood the feelings you were fighting.

Mapi came over and draped an arm over your shoulders, nodding her head without saying anything. There were only a few who would truly understand what you were feeling as you watched the Spanish national team reach heights that were before unachievable. And they managed to do it all without you and your fellow teammates.

You waited by the phone all night, but never got anything from your girlfriend. You had tried calling once, but it had gone straight to voicemail, and you figured that it meant that she wasn’t ready to hear from you yet.

Then, you reached out to Ona, who assured you that Alexia was okay and that she would keep an eye on her for you. You then asked her to pass on your congratulations and her love, which she easily agreed to. Thanking the younger girl, you went about making the necessary arrangements for your trip.

****

As you stepped into the stadium, you were in awe of the atmosphere. The crowds of people here for this game, cheering along and choosing sides, even though their own nations have already gone home. It was a full stadium of people here to love and champion the game everyone loved. A wave of sadness swept through you as you imagined what could have been.

You were supposed to be experiencing this with all your friends, the grass beneath your feet, not the concrete of the seating area. You should have been out there decked out in your Spanish uniform, your name and number proudly on your back, instead of being in the stands with your girlfriend’s name and number on.

You let yourself wallow for a minute more before quickly reminding yourself why you were really here. While you continue to wish things were different, you didn’t regret your choices, but now you were to live with the consequences of those choices.

Instead of dwelling, you stood on your feet, cheering along with the rest of the Spanish fans as both teams made their way out for warmups. You cheered loudly anytime Alexia touched the ball, but with all the people in the stadium, you doubted she could hear you.

Once the Spanish team finished warming up and started heading into the locker rooms, you did your best to catch Alexia’s eyes without making a big show. As far as you knew, Alexia didn’t even know you were here.

Eventually you managed to make eye contact with Ona who sent you a bright smile before rushing over to Alexia and pointing you out in the crowd. Despite the countdown until kickoff and the protests of a certain coach, Alexia ran straight to you, meeting you at the edge of the stands.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, reaching one hand up to cup your face while the other went around your waist, pulling your bodies as close as the barrier between you two allowed.

In the moment, it didn’t matter if there was a small wedge driven between the two of you since the start of this tournament, Alexia was beyond happy to finally have you back in her arms. She wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

“I made a promise, we’d be here together,” you said, resting your forehead against hers, this closeness drowning out everything around you. “I came to fulfill that promise to you. Even if it’s a little different than the way we planned.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexia said, ready to jump into her rehearsed spiel of how she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did the other night.

But before she could say anything, you quickly interrupted her with an apology of your own. “No, mi corazón, I’m sorry. You were right, we made a promise and I went back on it.”

“No, I know why you and the others did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t support you. I just really wished I could have shared all of this with you by my side.”

“I know, bebé, I know. But we can’t change the past.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Alexia admitted, sniffling slightly. You reached up to wipe the pooling tear in her eye.

“Me too. I promise we can talk about this more later. For now, go out there and make me proud,” you told her, not caring about the crowd as you leant forward and kissed her for the first time in over a month. “Te amo.”

The blinding smile on your girlfriend’s face and the returned ‘I love you’ was worth the month apart. Alexia snuck one more quick kiss to your lips before rushing off to the locker room before she was benched for the entire game.

You sat back in your seat as you awaited the players' walk out.

“My sister is such a sucker for you,” Alba said, knocking her shoulder against yours from her seat beside you.

You burst out laughing, “Never hurts to have her wrapped around my finger,” you shrugged.

“Yet you were the one to skip practice in order to book a last minute flight to Australia just so you could apologize in person.”

“It’s called supporting your girlfriend,” you countered, eyes on the tunnel as the players were set to come out any second.

Alba rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, joining you as you both sported your Alexia jerseys, loudly cheering for the superstar as everyone came out. You blew her a kiss and wished her the best of luck.

This wasn’t how you two had thought a World Cup together would be like, but even with all the obstacles, you had finally made it to a final together. And really, that’s all that mattered because at the end of the day, you two would always have each other.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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blackopals-world · 6 months

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Number 3

Leona Kingscholar x fem Vet!Yuu

After the birth of their second cub Leona brings home a special gift.

Continuation of this

Yuu loved her family. There was no denying that. But sometimes...sometimes Leona surprises her.

It was a only a few weeks after Vita had been born. Yuu was still on bed rest. Leona was out of town for a meeting and as protector of the nation and Archduke he had to attend no matter how much he protested. Leona had been glued to her side since the pregnancy began and he had every right to be worried.

When Nuru was born five years before it almost took both their lives. For Leona it almost ended his world and he was staunchly against them having another child.

Vita has a happy accident for Yuu and Leona eventually came around after talking it through. It wasn't that he didn't want another child, he just didn't want to lose his wife to have one. Her life was too important. But when he held Vita he melted all over again. Just like with Nuru.

Nuru was snuggled into his mother's side as they layed in bed. The cub was determined to take care of his mom while dad was away. But such a job took a toll on a tiny body as he slept soundly.

Yuu was happy. Of course she was. Life was perfect. But...when she looked a Vita she felt a bit of sadness. Leona said they wouldn't have another child. She agreed, but...a part of her didn't realize what that would mean. She didn't know that this would be the last one. That meant this was the last time she'd experience caring for a baby. She knew that she had so many other things to look forward to but it's still sad.

Her Vita was so sweet though. How could she feel bad about having her? Yuu was going to enjoy every moment she had with her.

After checking on the cubs one last time she decided to get some sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, Yuu felt a pressure on her cheek. The low familiar voice of her husband greeted her and a weight shifted lest to her. The small whine of Nuru was heard as the cub was picked up and placed on his father's side not on his mom's stomach. Leona was firm on not stressing Yuu out and that meant no weight on her while she was post-partum.

The cub barely opened his eyes as he shifted to sleeping against his father. One was just as good as the other in his eyes.

The loving parents slept soundly until the sound of unfamiliar hungry crying started. Almost instantly Yuu was awake as she searched for the baby placed on the infant cot that was placed next to the bad for easy access for feeding.

But something felt off. Yuu flicked on the light and saw not one but two cubs. Unless she had forgotten giving birth to twins then this wasn't her baby.

But they were crying and were clearly hungry. They were on the small side and wrapped in a blue-gray blanket.

Yuu sighed and picked up the cub. They had sleek dark hair and emerald eyes. He looked so much like Leona Yuu should have been suspicious. Yuu however knew Leona better then that.

The cub quieted down after he was fed. He held tightly onto Yuu like he didn't want to be put down but eventually, he closed his little eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Once she was sure the cubs were all settled Yuu elbowed her husband awake.

"Explain." She hissed quietly.

"Explain what?" He mumbled not opening his eyes, a clear bead of nervous sweat on his brow.

"Dear, unless I'm hallucinating there are two babies in the cot." She said tugging Leona awake by the ear.

"Oh. You noticed." He said as if he didn't expect her to " I found him."

"I'm sure you did but where? Why take him?" She asked.

Leona hesitated to respond.

"He...was just left there. Alone. And everyone just walked by without even looking. They already decided his worth." He sighed looking at the sleeping cubs. Vita curled up on her belly and the new baby was holding a fist to his mouth suckling in his sleep. " I couldn't ignore it. I had Ruggie pick up some clothes and diapers for him and I brought him home."

"I thought you didn't want another." Yuu stated, not angry but concerned.

"I know. I should have told you but look at him. Besides what's one more. As long as Nuru doesn't try to feed him to his termites and Vita doesn't bite his ear off then it'll be fine." Leona said leaning over to turn off the light.

Yuu gave in. She understood by now that when Leona made up his mind he stuck by it. When he knew how to apply that trait well Yuu respected it. That was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. After all the day he confessed that he loved her, he swore to never take it back and that he'd chase her to the ends of the earth.

The baby was named Kato "second of twins". Neither parent acknowledged that he was anything other than their child. Nuru however was quick to point out that Kato showed up overnight. Only to get pulled by the ear.

Vita as prophesied kept chewing on Kato's ears as soon as they cut their teeth and Leona kept cheering them on when they both chewed on everything.

Yuu picked her battles and let Leona parent as he liked.

Still, she felt that finally, their family was complete.

#vet!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst leona #twisted wonderland leona

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lovelybrooke · 10 months

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Demon Slayers with a Foreign Reader

This was requested by @ruiroku, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy.

Check out my other works here: Masterlist.

I have two ideas for a foreign reader. From what I was able to find, Demon Slayers take place during the Taisho period (1912-1926). This was around the time Japan opened back up to Western influence after previously cutting themselves off from the rest of the world. Because of this, I could image the reader coming to Japan for many different reasons.

The best idea I had was reader being a doctor/nurse who is studying Japanese medical practices or teaching western medical practices (keep in mind that when I say "western" I don't necessary mean American/European. I just mean literally anything to the West, which is a lot of places, as to keep the readers original home vague).

Either way, throughout your time in Japan, you got to learn a lot about Japanese culture and practices, and overall enjoyed your stay there. Over time, however, you began to notice strange happenings and disappearances, especially the weaker patients you would take care of.

You made the assumption that your patients were simply succumbing to their illnesses, but whenever you checked up on their families, they claimed that they had just disappeared. This lead you on a wild goose chaise to find your missing patients, since you knew how venerable they were.

All this led you to be cornered by a hungry demon, who was enraged at your attempts of finding your patients. He was right about to kill you before you were saved by a very...eccentric looking man, to say the least. In one fell swoop, he chopped the demons head off, saving you from a very painful death.

The man, who you figured out was named Rengoku, was very loud, and talked very fast. So, it was hard for you to translate what he was saying. He assumed you were in shock, so lowered himself down to your level, and explained slowly he would be taking you with him to get your wounds treated. It didn't take long before you passed out.

This was how you became acquainted with the Demon Slayers. After your wounds were treated, you came to the realization that your former patients were killed, and it hurt very much. You felt like you weren't doing your job as a doctor and failed their loved ones. It took a toll on your mental health, Shinobu recommending that you stay until you feel better both mentally and physically.

The Demon Slayers Headquarters is surprisingly cozy, even with the many intense figures there. Shinobu is the one who you spend most of your time with, since she takes it upon herself to treat your wounds personally. She takes very good care of you, and you're intensely grateful, but sometimes you can feel a little overwhelmed with how strangely focused she is on you and your wellbeing. Though, she does offer to teach you a thing or two about medicines that can treat demon related injuries.

Once you are able to move on your own, you spend a lot of your time with the other Hashira's. Rengoku is very interested in learning about your home country and could listen to you talk about your home all day. He's very childlike in his curiosity for you, often ranting happily about his own interests and dreams as a Hashira. While he is very lighthearted, he does often remind you that you own him for saving you.

Others like Giyu pretend not to care about you and want you to leave as soon as possible. However, when it comes to your safety, they take it very seriously. Being a foreigner, Giyu views you as target for many dangerous people. He often reminds you that you are weak and easy to manipulate, though you don't really hear any malice behind his works, almost like his he genuinely worried about you.

Uzui is pretty intimidating when you first meet him, but you eventually learn not to fear him. You get to know him more and more when you start to patch him up after missions. You don't realize as you begin to open up to him about how you miss your home and family. Uzui doesn't seem to mind though, as he listens to you carefully and even offers advice on how to acclimate better to your new home. He even suggests that you meet his wives some time.

Once the Tanjiro and the gang arrive, the quicky warm up to you. Tanjiro thinks you are the sweetest person ever, and always feels bad when you're forced to take care of him after missions. You honestly remind him of the warmth of a parent that he very much misses. He also loves that Nezuko loves you. Zenitsu also likes you, especially since you are much easier on him, and Inosuke doesn't have that much of an opinion on you, but he doesn't hate you. In fact, he's probably the most interested in your home country since he's lived a pretty secluded life until becoming a demon slayer.

The kids being, well, kids, are very interested in your native culture. Tanjiro is sympathetic and understands that you might miss your home often, so he offers for you to teach him things regarding your culture. He might even learn how to cook native dishes that can remind you of your home. Unlike the others, who want you to forget about your native country, Tanjiro feels bad whenever you talk about missing your family or friends, even though it fills him with jealously.

They are also obsessed with the way you sound speaking your native language since they think it sounds so cool. Some of them like Rengoku might even want to learn, while others are simply content with hearing you talk. They think you're so smart, being able to speak to languages. Even if you're not fluent in Japanese, they're all willing to help you with anything you're struggling with. Though, there are times where they'll bend the truth on what they are saying whenever you're confused, most notably when they're talking about something not so savory.

In conclusion, even once you get better, you're staying with them. The Hashira's are very good at making you feel like you owe them something, and so they abuse that to get you to stay. You don't even notice that you're slowly and slowly forgetting about leaving, as you start to work as a nurse with Shinobu. Even once you get better and can technically leave on your own, you're constantly reminded of how dangerous the world is without your demon slayer friends.

---

A/n: I might write a part 2 with the demons, so tell me if you would want that.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere demon slayer #kny x reader

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jxckchxmpi0n · 4 months

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Jack champion x fem reader and he plays spiderman and reader is mj?

I'm going to make this into some headcanons

hope you enjoy <3

Being Ethan's mj headcanons

did not proofread |m.list

update : I just now realized that after posting this what you were asking I will 10000% rewrite this as its supposed to be!! I'm so sorry I hope this is okay for the time being! idk why it took so long for my brain to realize what you were actually asking for :(((((

Happy New Year babes!!!! I hope you all had a great new year's and were safe! I'm so excited for this new year and to grow my account. I am going back to school next week, so the requests are going to come out slowly, but I am writing them. I will try to post once or twice a week but I no promises <;3 I love you all so much and thank you so much for your support it really means so much to me.

You didn't know who Ethan was before your junior year in high school. both of you got paired up for a science project and ended up hitting it off and became close friends.

Chad would try to get Ethan to ask you out, he would be sad for weeks after you both finished the project, unable to see each other after classes had changed.

After a fight with some jock, you saw him hanging outside trying to clean up the cuts on his face, you would end up helping him and get to talking.

"Listen Ethan I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out sometime." he would just stare at you in disbelieve, he'd be smiling so much the cut on his cheekbone started to bleed again.

From there on it was official you were in a relationship with him, he would always meet you up after school take the long way home just so he could be with you longer.

After a few months there was a change in how he was acting, you also noticed something different about him but couldn't put your hand on it.

This weekend it was longer due to some holiday and you, and Ethan had planned to spend the entire weekend together watching Star Wars and building Legos, but Ethan's mind had been so wrapped up in his new actives that he forgot.

Crawling through his window he heard his aunt talking, but he also heard another voice, and it was yours. His heart beating faster, just hearing your voice has that effect on him.

But thinking about your voice distracted him from realizing you were walking to his room, once he saw the door handle move panic set in.

Quickly he fell from the ceiling and grabbed a blanket but tripped himself in the process. "Ethan? when did you get home?" and before you both knew it you were holding the blanket while he shot up holding a hand to your month to stop you from yelling.

"Please, don't say anything! My aunt doesn't know yet you can't tell anyone!" his voice was harsh yet soft and scared. He was scared with how you were going to act.

"You're fucking spiderman! Holy shit! Holy Shit" you dropped the blanket and jumped into his arms. he stood there for a second confused, he eventually gave in wrapping his arms around you. feeling the warmth of your body against his. He felt safe with you.

"You have to tell me everything! and oh my god I have so many questions! but also you idiot!" you slapped him aside the head laughing but also giggling at the fact that your boyfriend is spiderman.

From there on you would help him fix his suit if he ever needed it or cover for him if a lie came back to haunt him.

Some nights he'd come to your window sharing all the details about some sandwich robbery he stopped.

There would be times where it's hard to be with Ethan, you sometimes thought he loved being spiderman than being with you. His actions spoke more than words could at times.

Bailing on date nights, sometimes right in the middle of your date. You love him and love seeing how much joy he gets out of helping others, but it also takes a toll on your relationship.

After an argument about how you felt he bailed out on you not wanting to say something he'd regret.

Things just got harder from there, you both agreed that you'd be better off apart, but you both lied to yourself.

Ethan thought it was better only to keep you safe from the criminals, and you thought it was all stupid. Knowing spiderman is who he is but he's also Ethan Landry the love of your life.

Soon things would take a turn for the worst as one of his enemies found out your importance to spiderman. Kidnapping you and using you as a pawn to trap him.

Ethan's heart would break seeing you in so much pain, even after trying to leave you to keep you save it did nothing. there you sat in front of him after he fought the villain. He didn't know what to do.

Both of you scrapped and bloodily up all you want to do is be in his arms. And just like before he stood shocked for a moment feeling your body against his.

It felt so right, wrapping his arms around your body he held you tight, tighter than he ever has. "I'm so sorry y/n please I'm so sorry i love you" he tucked his head into your neck, the faint smell of your perfume filled his nose.

"Don't ever leave me ever again! I'm being serious" you hugged him as tight as he did to you. "And I love you too."

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar spider #avatar way of water #avatar

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wood-white-writer · 4 months

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“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun.

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day.

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you.

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain.

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?”

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are.

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp.

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher.

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek.

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face.

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it?

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?”

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.”

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay.

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you.

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response.

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening.

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence.

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day.

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you.

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying.

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin.

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges.

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time.

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back.

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough.

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound.

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns.

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements.

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command.

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight.

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep.

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down.

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable.

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

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skymoral · 5 months

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Bi-Han x B!F Wife Reader

RELAXATION

Story: Bi-Han has taken y/n reader as there wife. Ever sense you confessed you had a crush on him sense the mortal kombat tournament as you watched him the competitors on the side-line in outworld. He found you annoying at first, but you didn’t let that stop you and eventually you slowly broke that icy heart. No one else has and he’s only a bit sweet with you, everyone else not really

You use to be one of Princess Kitana close heads of the kingdom. So you were use to many things as well knew a bit of combat, but a bit shy at showing it and other things

Summary: Bi-han was exhausted, as being grandmaster was time consuming and you missed your husband and wanted to do something to relax him

Tags: Fluff, Kinky, slight smut, dom!bi-han, sub!reader, breeding kink, romance

Side-note: I don’t proof reader, but hope you still like it anyway

Y/N was super excited to finally have her husband return. Although you noticed he looked tired and more grouchy then usual.

You were outside tending to your own personal garden Bi-han had his men make for you as you watch him from a far snapping at his brothers before storming off to you and his bed chamber.

Like the curious little person you are approached Kuai Liang and Tomas on the matter

“What happened?” You asked them

“Just another one of brothers episodes. All we were trying to do was help.” Tomas explained

“But all he does is bark insults dismisses our efforts to support him. I believe being grandmaster is taking toll on his sanity.” Kuai Liang finished.

“Let me have a talk with him.” You told them happily, they nodded and you all went your separate ways

Y/n went into there bedchamber’s, you didn’t see him in the bed. So he must have shut himself in his office. Which gave y/n an idea!

You had one of the Lin Kuai maids prepare a meal and bring it your bedchamber.

You started preparing a nice steamy bath lighting vanilla scented candles, that Bi-han loved ever sense you made them. You were pretty crafty when you lived with the princesses kingdom.

You had threw blue flower petals around the bed and some in the bath. You looked in the mirror fixing up your box braids in a nice ponytail. Baby hairs on 10 and adding light makeup.

Y/n wore a nice tight kinky lingerie under a transitional Chinese Hanfu silk garment. She stared at herself in the mirror in amazement

“Well don’t you look like a fucking snack! Bitches ain’t got nothing on this.” Y/n smacked her ass in the mirror before a knock came at the door.

The maids brought the foods and y/n grabbed the tray, and headed straight to her husbands office.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You gently knocked with your foot on the door, hoping he had calmed down

Your hands slowly getting tired from waiting, he finally responded.

“Who Is It.”

“Your favorite little ice-cycle.” Y/n giggled quietly, because you heard a grunt. Bi-han knew only you would make those corny ass puns related to his power.

When he opened the sliding doors he was graced with you nicely decorated for him, with a tray of all his favorite dishes on it

Y/n noticed Bi-Han’s face softing up, you gave him the biggest smile. “I noticed you seemed a bit frustrated and tired… S-So I thought maybe I could do something to help my grandmaster relax and relieve him of his stress and duties.”

“Ooh, and does my precious vixen have something planned with evening.” Bi-han lifted your chin, you could literally faint from that voice.

“Actually I do, if my beloved grandmaster could follow me.” Y/n grinned walking past him, and sat the tray on the table.

You patted the spot for him to come and eat with you, which he obliged. Although you stopped him and told him that you will feed him happily.

Y/n had them lean back onto them and rest his head between her chest.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The evening was going nice and smoothly, as you help your husband unwind. After the meal, he bathe you were scrubbing him down and messaging while washing his head. Which he melt instantly into.

Your actions were already getting him excited and hard, and he wanted to just take you right then and there. But you promised him something special once you’ve done all you wanted.

Y/n had him lay on his chest on the bed once he was done. You slowly stripped from the garment and grabbed some cream and special oil sitting it next to you on the side of the bed. As you straddled him on his back.

You rubbed some cream in your hands and began messaging it into and loosening the tightness in his muscles. You loved hearing the pleasure sounds out of him when you gave him messages.

“Does that feel good baby?” Y/n whispered seductively, messaging harder getting a pressure point, earning a ‘fuck’ from him.

You then put some oil on your chest, which was sliding in the middle of your core. You laid your chest on his back rubbing it on his back, while kissing his neck slowly and gently.

Which was the breaking point for him, switching the positions for you. Until you were under, Bi-han straddling your legs. Your hair now undone sprawled on the bed.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy!?” Bi-han glared at you with hungry eyes. You just looked at him smirking and slightly blushing. You weren’t going to lie you’ve been hot and bothered as well, and wet in between the legs.

“No, just trying to ease my husbands frustration… maybe I was so happy to see you come back, I wanted us to have a little fun as well.” Y/n but her lips blushing

Bi-han looked at how you were laid out for him, and was very pleased with your effort. As well as saw it as sweet.

You pulled him down into a passionate kiss, catching him off guard but then he slowly reciprocated making the kiss deeper. He slowly pulled away making you whine slightly, as kisses with Bi-han was heavenly to say.

Although you felt rip your lingerie with one pull. As he spread your legs further, making his member rub against your wet entrance.

“Well why don’t I show my appreciation for you being such sweet considerate wife… I will fuck you until sunrise, till you are passed out and fully marked by me inside and out.” Bi-han grinned wickedly.

“What if I get pregnant?”

“All the more better my love, seeing you walk around my child in your womb is a sight to behold.” He whispered in your ear voice even deeper, with his cold fingers roaming your body and gripping your breast.

Y/n knew this was going to be a long night but it was definitely so worth it

• Month Later •

“I tested positive as pregnant.” You said to yourself in the bedroom alone.

I hope you all in enjoyed it, there may be many text errors but I’m to lazy to proof read lol.

This was my first time doing a Y/N reader x character. Usually mines is like putting people from those worlds together.

But hope you lovely people like it still

#bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #bi han x you #bi han mortal kombat #mortal kombat #fem reader #reader insert #smut #fluff #bi han fanfic #romance #bi han is sexy fight me #bi han is daddy material #black reader

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shesjustanothergeek · 1 year

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Four

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! School is now back in full swing for me, and it's been hella stressful, but I wanted y'all to know I'll be updating every two weeks now. I wanted to thank you for the continuous support you have shown me, even those who haven't commented and such. I see you! Things are starting to heat up now, so stay with me as the story progresses! <3

Chapter Warnings: Minor x Minor sexual situations, Aegon and you being absolute heathens.

A snore woke the eldest Prince up, eyelids fluttering at the noise below him.

His sweet girl was fast asleep, tired from a long day exploring the many things King's Landing had to offer. Aegon ordered the guests in the private room to leave some time ago, wanting personal time with his dragon.

He had wanted to go farther with you but thought better of it. He knew you would leave him at the drop of a needle if he did anything that displeased you.

You were a more outspoken and self-assured young woman than many of the so-called "Lords" in the royal court. Aegon admired you for that.

Gods. His life could have been so different if Daemon had known about you. If that bitch Madam had not hidden you away from him for so long. He wanted to make up for that lost time, knowing what it could have been like now.

Aegon had tasted the forbidden fruit; he realized as he drifted off into a slumber similar to your own, falling asleep within seconds.

***

Ser Erryk Cargyll had finally decided to find the crowned Prince. He knew Aegon would have his fun and eventually head back to the Red Keep, but it had been nearly a day and a half, and Aegon still had yet to return. He soon found out why seeing an unconscious girl on top of him. Ser Erryk did not question it, only looking at the child with pity. He could only imagine what Aegon had subjected her to. Erryk shoved the girl off him, her still heavily drunk body flopping onto the floor.

You groaned, rolling onto your side as you pried your eyes open. The different concoctions of alcohol still coursed through your veins, your vision only slight blobs of color in the dim light. It was a rude awaking. Your annoyance at whoever threw you off the bed and onto the tile floor was intense. You had thought, how dare they wake you up as you raised into a seated position. Sitting upright did not help your need for rest, feeling as if gravity was pushing you into the floor.

Erryk touched Prince Aegon's shoulder, attempting to spare him some dignity of respect for the crown. Of course, Aegon didn't budge, sound asleep to dreams of soft, nimble fingers running through his short hair, nails scraping his scalp.

"My Prince." Erryk tried again to wake Aegon, but he was far too gone, the endless cups taking their toll.

You tilted your head at the man and saw a blurry outline of what looked like a shiny rectangle, sparkles dotting your vision.

What was a rectangle doing waking up the crowned Prince? You couldn't help but giggle as you saw them move Aegon again, he ignoring the intruder and rolling on his side. Aegon could handle his alcohol during the process, but Gods help anyone who tried to mess with him after.

"Your grace, you must wake up," he asked, louder this time. Aegon groaned, smacking the man's hands away as he flopped down into his pillow.

You laughed again, your heavy body thumping on the floor as you continued your drunken fit. The man glared down at you, annoyed that you found his current predicament amusing. You would be of little help in your state, even if you wanted to.

Ser Erryk was beginning to feel a familiar disdain bubble up inside him. He didn't know why Prince Aegon continually sullied the Targaryen's name.

After years of being chastised and embarrassed, drug back to the Red Keep day in and day out, having his Mother scream at him for the coffers he slowly drained, he ought to have learned. But he did not. Eyrrk felt that he never would, having been raised as an uncollared dog. He waited patiently for Aegon to be put on a leash-- put in his proper place. Whether it be by Rhaenyra taking her spot as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, or a tampered glass of wine, he did not care.

"Aegon, I think he wants you to wake up," you teased from your spot on the ground, rolling slightly from the tingles in your limbs.

You were a drunken, uncontrollable giggling mess watching the man move about the room, finding a filled pitcher and pouring it onto the Prince's head. A muffled "No" sounded from the feather-tick pillow Aegon was smothering his face in. Your stomach hurt, your sides stitching as he shot up, gasping from the cold liquid as his shirt stained a pinkish color.

"I am glad you find my suffering amusing, little one," he jested, although glaring daggers at the man.

"Come, my Prince, it is midday, and your Father wishes your family to sup in honor of your Uncle's arrival." The man hoisted him up, his armor clinking as he wrapped his arm around Aegon's shoulder.

"My Uncle has dined with us many times before, Ser Erryk. I do not see the importance of this one," he protested, slumping over.

"Your King commands it, my Prince. It was not a suggestion," the man you have come to know as Ser Erryk said.

"The King demands it, or does my Mother? Do not lie to me. You know that man has not spoken coherently since he was put on The Poppy." Erryk pursed his lips, not dignifying the boy with a response.

You watched them with a slowly falling smile as he led Aegon to the exit, nearly tripping over the uneven floor. The terrifying thought of walking alone on the streets of Kings Landing caused you to let out a loud sob, quickly covering your mouth so no one could hear. You didn't know where to go, a hopeless feeling drowning you in your vulnerable state.

Aegon turned and saw your crumbled figure on the floor, your dark hair a mess from last night's sweating, dancing, and drinking. His little dragon, alone without a rider to claim her. He would have to remedy that.

"She comes with me." Aegon pointed to you, his words firm and no hint of second guesses. Ser Erryk scowled, questioning the Prince he served.

"The whore?" He asked bluntly, making you mirror his sour expression. But before you could speak, Aegon did it for you.

"She is not a whore," he defended you, and your heart melted. It felt different than how Madam would. Instead of the usual threats and yelling, he stood up for you. He said no great show of ruffled feathers and loud barking only, "she will return with us to the Red Keep and dine with my family."

Ser Cargyll wanted to protest and explain to the Prince how improper-- how insulting this would be to his Mother. To have a lowly whore dine with the royal family was... fitting for Aegon, he had to admit. You attempted to stand but fell back down onto the tile, heel catching on your dress. Heat covered your cheeks and ears from the embarrassment.

"Your grace, she cannot even stand," he said, a protest hidden behind the concern for your well-being.

"Then you will carry her," Aegon retorted as if it was apparent. He freed himself from the knight's grip, stumbling slightly as he regained his balance. "I can walk myself, Ser Erryk. Tend to the lady," he nodded in your direction.

Erryk did not challenge him anymore, understanding that refusing his request further could cost him his knighthood or possibly his life. He stomped with his white-plated armor, clinking with each step as he threw you over his shoulder. You squealed, kicking your legs on instinct as his cold metal breastplate jabbed into your stomach, but after a few steps and a sudden wave of nausea, you began to forget.

Balling your fists, you willed yourself not to vomit. A combination of pride and solely not wanting to hurl your entire belly gave you strength as you swayed over Ser Erryk's back.

Aegon was immensely annoyed at his Mother for cutting his enjoyable sleep short, but he found the whole ordeal amusing as the three of you left the brothel and smiled to himself. He knew tonight's dinner would change everything as he trailed behind on the path to the Red Keep, watching your face turn different shades of green. He was sure it would change for good, at least for him. Daemon wanted you for some reason or another, and Aegon was willing to bet that Rhaenyra had something to do with it. Daemon had no paternal bone in his body for girls, having been raised in a society that let men do as they please.

Though Aegon was drunk most of the time when the Valaryian girls visited the palace, he could still see how Daemon was disconnected from them. He could not train the pair in the art of the sword or take them to war, let alone have them attend the revelries he frequented. He still loved his children, but an arm's length was where he kept them. A blind man could see that.

Frankly, you had no idea where you were going at this point. Something about the Red Keep mentioned earlier was all you could remember, but you couldn't trust your memories yet. You could see flashes of black leather boots when you dared open your eyes, your head thumping in time with the steps. The soft rumble of male voices conversing in the background eased your discomfort, but you could not discern what they were saying. You faintly recognized the smooth timber of one of them, enough for you to calm.

Shouting soon clouded your senses instead, the sound of words being relayed to multiple people as a loud thud boomed in the air. You attempted to cover your ears, but the movement put all your weight on your stomach, and you let out a loud belch. You tried to hold your laughter back, hiding your face in Ser Erryk's armor. Another person joined your immaturity, which only served to foil any attempt at holding your composure.

Erryk stiffened at your childishness, unimpressed with how unladylike you were being. You were just as much of an embarrassment as him. He now understood why Aegon brought you along. The Queen would surely die from shame tonight. He mentally prepared for it, sending a silent prayer to The Seven as the three of you entered the Red Keep.

***

The land between sleep and consciousness rocked you in its embrace the entirety of the day, or, at least, what you assumed it was. You hadn't strictly kept track of how much time had passed. Was it today, or was it the morrow? Or, somehow, in a wicked twist of karmic retribution, was it years from now?

You would never drink again.

Sweat clung to your skin, a blanket of sticky fluids wrapped snuggly around your body as you tugged at your dress. Everything was too tight-- too hot. The woolen fabric trapped in all your heat as you wriggled like a babe attempting to escape its swaddle.

"What's wrong, little one," Aegon asked, his voice gravelly with sleep. You hadn't a clue where you were or how he got here, but you didn't care.

"Get this Gods forsaken dress off me," you demanded, still struggling in vain with the unforgiving fabric.

Aegon blinked at you, his hair in greasy white tangles and dark circles contrasting his pale skin. Surely you did not ask him to undress you. The Green Fairy must still be playing tricks on him.

"Aegon, help me," you whined. You managed to get your skirt stuck over your head, making the already troublesome task even more difficult. He sighed through his nose, playfully annoyed. He could never be cross with you.

He sat up and slid closer, flipping the outer layer of your dress back down before positioning you on your side. Aegon knew you could not keep yourself upright, electing to loosen the strings on your back before shimmying the fabric down.

He paused at the sight of your exposed shoulder. The dark hair of your scalp ran down the sides of your neck, fading into a fine fuzz that stood at his touch. He moved the long strands from your back, trailing his fingers down your bones like raindrops sliding on your flushed skin. You hummed in delight, rolling until your shoulder blades touched his cold chest. While you felt like a wood stove, he radiated a chill that swept the streets of Kings Landing during winter nights.

"That feels nice," you sighed absentmindedly, pulling on your sleeve to pop your arm out. "Gods, this is the worst," you mumbled.

The other sleeve refused to budge, cutting into the base of your neck as you flopped like a hooked fish trying to rip it off. He helped you again, sitting up and exposing your thin chemise.

Sweat stains covered the delicate fabric, the originally white coloring now a tan-yellowish color from days of skipped washing. Aegon didn't mind. He was well aware that he did not look much better after a night of drinking and fucking. It was one of the many reasons everyone within the castle walls turned their nose away from him.

He did not train his violet eyes on the dirty cloth but on what lay underneath. The protrusion of your shoulder blades, the outline of your back, and your shape. He felt himself stop breathing, gulping down a lump that formed in his throat at the personal view of your figure. To all others who glanced, you were a plain-looking girl, the only remarkable thing about you being the white streak in your hair. If only they took a moment more to look at you, they would see you for what you indeed are—a God amongst men.

"Still too hot," you groaned, moving your arms to take your underdress off. Aegon quickly grabbed your hand, stopping you from exposing yourself utterly bare in front of him.

"You must keep your modesty, sweetling," he said. The words almost sounded like a plead, an exemplary sentence to one's child.

He did not know where a sudden urge to protect your honor came from.

Aegon was never much for caring about his pride, let alone a woman's. He was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for his debauchery, yet a bastard maiden from Flea Bottom brought out his conscience.

"I do not care, my Prince." Even with the words slurred out, he could still hear the condescension that came with his title. He pursed his lips, racking his brain for a way to redirect your attention from trying to unclothe yourself.

"How about some wine? To cool you off," he offered, but you shook your head vehemently, causing it to spin.

"No! No more wine Aegon; I cannot think straight." You looked as if you were about to vomit. The heat mixing with your upset stomach was a potent concoction that spelled disaster.

"Water then," he said, opening his chamber doors and barking the order to someone you couldn't see.

Aegon released a gasp when he turned back around, seeing you had ignored his warnings and attempted to take the chemise off yourself, your head somehow stuck in the armhole and your arms poking through the neck. His pupils dilated at the curve of your thighs, an almost invisible line of dark hair trailing down your stomach to a sparse tuft between your legs. All the blood in his body rushed to his cock, a jolt of arousal at seeing such indecent parts of you.

He wanted to pounce. He wanted to rip that damnable piece of clothing off your body and stuff it in your mouth as he claimed your maidenhood.

Hearing and touch were the only two senses left that weren't wholly distorted by the copious amount of alcohol you drank the night prior. Touch: the fabric of your smock strangling your limbs and rubbing your skin raw. Hearing: the floorboards creaking with someone's weight as they stepped closer to you.

A hand subconsciously slid down his side and hooked its thumb in the hemline of his trousers, relieving some of the pressure.

You felt your bondage loosen as the final piece of clothing left your body. It was like the first breath of spring, the golden sun bathing your skin with its comforting rays for the first time in months. You sighed, smiling and lying back on the bed with your freedom.

"Much better," you hummed, shutting your eyes and stretching your exerted muscles with a loud groan. The mattress dipped next to you, not the total weight of someone's body, as if they were kneeling, looking down upon your naked form.

A shuttering breath next to you opened your eyes, seeing Aegon leaning over you. He didn't seem like himself, his eyes black, the dim light from the troches reflecting in them. It was as if something had possessed him as he stared at your breasts, wetting his lips and bending closer to you. His hand reached out at speed almost too slow for one to notice, and his blunt fingertips trailed down the expanse of your chest, down to your sternum, and circled the underside of your bubby. Gooseflesh rose in his wake, your toes curled, and your nipples hardened as Aegon's finger slid over it. You moaned as a chill went through your body, finally cooling off.

His touch lit a fire within you, the same feeling from the pleasure house, but you weren't in a drunken haze this time. You were beginning to sober, all your senses finally returning. Your vision was apparent again as you saw Aegon shift himself over top of you, using his other hand as support on your shoulder. He bent down, his once violet eyes still black as he scanned your face, a taught expression on it. Jolts of pleasure went straight to your core as he pinched your budded nipple, capturing your lips with his in a mess of tongue and teeth.

The lack of inhibitions between the both of you back at the brothel served in favor of Aegon. You let him defile you without reservations, but the alcohol was nearly gone from your system, and you realized something was wrong with this. Your mind screamed it. But how could you stop? You didn't want to stop. You wanted to extend the sensations he was giving you; it was what your body wanted, what it needed.

He broke for air, trailing a line of open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin as he reached your chest. He continued groping at one breast, kneading the flesh with his hand as he latched on to the other, his lips sucking the perked bud. Aegon's grip on your body hurt, the skin tender from growth, but the pain surfaced something... primal. A deep moan came from your throat as your hands went into his hair, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, moving on their own accord against him.

"Oh, Aegon," you whimpered, pulling on his hair until he released your tit with a pop. His chest heaved, grinding himself into your heat as his mouth returned to yours. His fingers tangled in your damp hair, cranking your head back to expose your neck, sucking harshly as you whimpered again.

"Your sounds are divine," he growled into your skin, "I must hear more."

Aegon bit onto a pulse point, causing you to cry out and your hands to yank the hair attached to his scalp. A muffled chuckle was all you heard from him as he let go and kissed down your body once more, not stopping past your chest or navel, creating small puddles of saliva.

Anticipation tightened in your stomach when he reached the top of your mound. The desire to move your hips, his lips on the buzzing spot, was all you could think about. Any hesitant thoughts from before were gone, your mind only chanting one thing.

"Please, Aegon."

He grinned, more than happy to oblige your pleas.

Aegon opened his mouth and used his flattened tongue to lick a stripe up your slit. He wrapped his lips around that sensitive button, sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body and making your thighs trap his head there. Your hips bucked, chasing his movements and moaning every time he hit that particular little bud. Your body became hot, your cheeks undoubtedly generating enough heat to warm even the coldest souls in the winter months.

You could feel sweat collect on your hairline and drip behind your ears as your hips moved in time with his ministrations, your insides wanting to clench around something. Aegon kissed your maidenhood as he did with your lips, creating the same building sensation as last night.

You felt his tongue dip inside you, using his thumb to continue the same focus he had with his mouth on your bud. His tongue felt terrific, hitting a specific spot inside you that made your nerves go wild, but you wanted more. You might not be able to reach the same peak as before if you did not. You needed something to hold on to, something deep within your body to keep you in place as you rode out your high.

"Aegon, I-I need..." You couldn't form a coherent sentence, every attempt foiled by a new wave of pleasure. "I need-Oh Gods-I need you..."

Despite hedonism, Aegon felt a deep emotion he had never experienced, feeling wanted. Since the day he was born, the first true-born Prince spent every moment of his life with those pushing him away in place of someone more fitting.

Rhaenyra has already taken his place as heir to the Iron Throne and received all his father's praise and attention. Aemond, his ever-dutiful brother taking the spot as their Mothers favorite, and Helaena, the spot of their Grandfather's darling grandchild. He was left with no place in his family besides as a pawn to be put on the throne, but with you, oh, with you, he felt like he belonged.

A girl he had hardly known for a day made him feel like he was needed solely for himself and not the potential of what he could be.

Something twisted inside him then, a feeling of dark, unhealthy obsession blooming in his mind.

Mine, was all he could think, only mine. Only my darling girl. No one-- nothing can take her from me. She is mine, only mine, mine, mine.

"What do you need, my little dragon?" Aegon asked sweetly, vastly differing from his possessive thoughts.

Mine, mine, mine.

"I-I need something inside of me. I do not think I can reach my peak without it. Without you." He could see the tears leaking from your eyes, your face flushed with frustrated pleasure. Seeing you in such a weakened state only fueled his darkened mind, unable to deny you of your request.

Of course, Aegon wanted to take your maidenhead, he would not let the idea of anyone else cross his mind, but this couldn't be the time. You were not his wholly. You were just a young girl, intoxicated by the newfound pleasures a man could give. He couldn't fault you for that; he remembers feeling the same at your age. He still had a small amount of decency within him and knew that you would live to regret having him take your virtue in the future. He wanted you in your entirety—mind, body, and soul.

He parted from your mound, his thumb still rubbing your button as he traced a finger around your hole. "I shall not deny you, sweetling," he plainly said as a singular digit entered you.

It provided much repreave, yet still not deep enough. Your disappointment soon overshadowed as he stuck his mouth to your button and curled his finger inside you.

Your high mounted, quick, wild horses ran through your hollow bones as he pulled your release from you. He did not stop until your legs went limp around his head, and your body went slack, small whimpers coming from your lips. Your hands went to his hair, pushing his face deeper into your wet core as you let pure ecstasy run through you, singing Aegon's praises.

Finally, he pulled away, his chin glistening from the juices inside your heat as he brought the finger he used inside his waiting mouth. You still saw stars as he flopped down next to you, catching his breath as if he had just finished sprinting. Aegon wore a smile you mirrored as you scooted closer to him, placing your head on his shoulder.

He had given you many opportunities to explore new things, and you did not know how to thank him. Words could not convert your gratefulness properly. You moved your hand across his chest, creating a pattern similar to the one he made on your breasts as he closed his eyes and sighed contentiously, pulling you closer.

Your fingers trailed down the expanse of his soft stomach, following the line of blonde hair down to his trousers. He didn't open his eyes as you traced the outline of his rigid member, only quirking a brow.

"What are you doing, little one," he questioned with a look. You could feel his cock twitch underneath your fingers.

"You have shown me so many things I had no idea of, exposed me to the pleasures of man, and I am eternally grateful for that. Should I not do the same?" You rubbed your palm against him, and you saw his stomach tense. "You will help me, won't you? I am still not entirely experienced yet," you said sheepishly.

"Of course I will," he agreed and kissed the knuckles of your other hand.

A knock interrupted your moment. Aegon groaned in annoyance, rolling his eyes. "Go away," he commanded as he grabbed your hand to move again.

"Your Grace, I have brought the water you requested," a weak female voice sounded through the thick wooden doors.

Your mouth suddenly felt parched, remembering how thirsty you had been earlier. Aegon looked down at you, questioning if you still wanted it, then sighed, telling the servant to bring it in.

You had completely forgotten you were still naked, your palm over Aegon's cock as she entered, releasing a short gasp at the sight. He rolled his eyes again, signaling her to put the pitcher and cups on a table across the room as he kept your hand in place.

Aegon had not let you stop your movements on his prick, maintaining eye contact the entire time the servant scurried around his rooms. You knew you should have felt disgusted with the shame of displaying something so sexual and vulgar in front of a poor serving girl, but you didn't. The impropriety of it was what you loved, sending a pleasant warmth throughout your body.

The girl stood silently, hands clasped in front of her red uniform dress and gaze downcast.

"You may go," Aegon said pointedly, annoyed that she couldn't read that her task was finished.

"Yes," she nodded, curtsying out of respect for his position, "thank you, your grace." And she left his chambers in a flurry of skirts and crimson.

You could see that Aegon wanted to continue as if you hadn't been sorely interrupted, but your thirst was unimaginable, and you pouted your lip. He sighed, moving slightly to let you get a drink. It felt as if the ground was vibrating as you walked over, needing to move from chair to table to chair again to stay upright. You had seen men walk out of rooms like this at Madam's brothel, snickering to yourself in the shadows away from their eyes. It was ironic you did the same.

You could feel Aegon's stare on your back as you poured yourself a glass, not thinking to offer him some. Not moments later, another knock on his door sounded, a more mature female voice coming through it.

"My Prince," she began, pausing for a moment longer than reasonable, "I believe I may have found a dress befitting your guest." You looked at Aegon, perplexed as to why you needed another set of clothes. A flurry of questions arose in your mind, reality finally catching you as you took in your surroundings.

You were in His Majesty, Prince Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, Son of Viserys, the Peaceful, bed chambers. How had you gotten to this moment? The last memory you had was of Ma yelling at you, kicking you out of the only home you had ever known, and then Aegon. It was all Aegon. His smiling face dragged you across Kings Landing, stuffing your face with foods Ma could never afford. His laugh echoed in your mind as he threw back drink after drink. His sweet words whispered in your ear as he made you feel the greatest pleasures of man.

"Your Grace, I am feeling quite ill. I wish to be taken home." You had acted too immaturely and rashly after what happened with Ma. She was the only true mother you had known, and you were her only daughter. She loved you-- loves you.

"What are you going on about, my sweet? You are home," Aegon dismissed, shifting himself in the blankets.

"No, Aegon." You placed the water on the table and gave him your full attention. "This is the Red Keep. Your home," you replied pointedly.

"This is your home now; I thought you realized this." He was starting to get annoyed with explaining the obvious to someone he thought was clever.

"Why on the Seven's green Earth would this ever be my home," you asked sarcastically, curling your lip incredulity and crossing your arms. "If you are attempting to make you your whore, you are sorely mistaken."

He groaned, rolling the blankets and shifting the pillows as he failed to get comfortable. "You are not my whore. I did not expect you to be."

You stormed over to the resting Prince, forgetting that you were still naked as the day you were born.

"How dare you think you can keep me here! I may not have the power to order people around as you do, but I have authority over my own life!" He scoffed and rolled over, refusing to meet your angry gaze.

"Not anymore," he mumbled more to himself than you.

"I do not care what you believe. I am leaving this place." You stormed around the room, a blaze of fury in your steps as you pulled your smock on and tied your outer dress just enough to cover your modesty.

He didn't try to stop you, only watching as you took one last swig of water before shoving his chamber room doors open. You had been a fool. The stupid young, naive girl you had tried so hard not to be. It was ignorant to think that Aegon wouldn't be like the men you heard the working girls complain about when he was most likely the one they spoke of the most. He was a disgusting, vile creature, and you never wanted to see him again.

The guard stationed outside his room looked at you with an unreadable expression, his armor a polished white as he stood tall. He seemed familiar, but his garb was different from the City Watch. You supposed he must have been far on the hierarchy of knights never to have seen him.

"I apologize, my lady, but I cannot allow you to leave," he said gravely, stepping in front of you.

You spun to face Aegon, the man still not having moved from his spot on the bed.

"Tell him to let me leave," you nearly shouted, but he ignored you. "Aegon, tell your guard to let me leave. Now!" This time, you did yell, done with all the games the eldest Prince played. They were no longer fun.

"Lead the woman to the Guest Wing," he flicked his wrist as if he was swatting a fly. "See to it she is fed and made to rest until called upon. We have had a long night."

You felt as if smoke was pouring from your ears, marching over to Aegon as his guard caught you by the shoulder, nearly causing you to fall back.

"Yes, my Prince." He nodded stiffly, pulling you to where you assumed the Guest Wing was.

"Oh, and Ser Eyrrk?" The knight stopped his movements abruptly, turning to face the boy he was sworn to protect. "Be sure to show me the dress the servant choose." Aegon paused, looking over your lust-stained clothes. "She is an honored guest of House Targaryen; she deserves to be robed as such."

Ser Erryk nodded once more and continued to lead you down the dark and barren halls of the Red Keep.

Master List of Series

The song called The Fruits by Paris Paloma heavily inspired this chapter. Link here! I also have a playlist I listen to when I write. Link here! If you have any questions about the story regarding the ages of characters, descriptions, etc... don't hesitate to ask me! Thank you so much for your patience. I hope the chapter lived up to your expectations. *.*

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd

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nian-7 · 5 months

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helloou I saw that you accept yandere so I was wondering if I could ask for some hcdns about that for kanata, toma, hajun and iori, that would be all thank youuuu<33

hi!! yes, i can do that! enjoy!

Kanata, Toma, Hajun, Iori x gn!reader

✧yandere headcanons

✧cw: yandere tendencies (violence, manipulation, etc)

-Kanata can't hide the fact that he's so overly protective of you to the point he goes as far as threatening people and even getting into fights just because a guy looked at you the wrong way.

-Usually, he doesn't really care if he's showing his more violent side around you because as long as you're safe and you still love him, he doesn't care. You and Nayuta are the only things that matter to him.

-Although, in the dead of night you'll occasionally catch him arriving back home, a little more battered up than usual. Everything he does is to protect you. What would he ever do with himself if he lost you too?

-Kanata will always tell you that he's doing it to protect you but really he just wants to keep you all to himself. In a little space for his eyes only.

-On the other hand, if you seem to be talking to someone who you're getting a little too close with for his liking, he'll take care of it, don't worry!

-He obviously wouldn't lay a hand on any of your family members as he understands how important they are. But friends who seem to be moving in too closely to you? It's fair game to him. Whether it be a threat or a very physical warning, he'll be there to be your shoulder to cry on when yet another one of your friends has ghosted or blocked you.

-Toma acts the most normal around you. He treats you just as he would with any one of his other friends but in reality he can't help but stalk you and make sure that you're not secretly going out with anyone..

-He doesn't really do much about the person if he does find that you have a secret lover but he might just try to scope them out online or even going as far as to send some nasty comments their way. They're the one whos in the way after all, right?

-Toma isn't really a possessive person in general but he does get that feeling that he hates whenever he sees your secret lover or someone who seems to getting too close to you. He'll create a bunch of new accounts just to go out of his way and say things about you that pain him but, anything to get them away from you.

-When you come crying to him about how your most recent s/o had dumped you, he'll be there to comfort you and tell you how great he thinks you are and how bad of a partner they were to you. It's slow but eventually he'll have your heart all to himself.

-Hajun could honestly be so blatantly rude to you and still want you. He will be so brutally honest to you whenever you ask him about a new friend you made or a partner you got with and he'll tell you all their red flags he sees because well, you don't need them of course. Only him.

-Although he likely wouldn't go off in a fight with someone, the mental toll they'd take just from running into him would be enough for them to leave you be for a long while.

-It's not very obvious that he's doing this because he loves you and rather that he's just being a protective friend, warning you when you've made friends with a bad person!

-He does have a very clear soft spot for you though, it's very obvious to both Anne and Allen whenever Hajun decides to take you into his room and comfort you after you get upset about another one of your friends leaving you for a reason they won't tell you.

-He's more of a manipulator than anything and won't physically hurt anyone but will manipulate those around you and you if he truly has to so that he can keep you to himself.

-Iori has many connections and so if he did have to do something he could easily. He tends to be openly possessive over you, intimidating anyone he needs to while he stands behind you.

-Truth is, he'd rather let you handle it but he just can't seem to let it go when someone gets too touchy or flirty with you and he ends up taking care of them once you're safe and sound. He doesn't want to get you wrapped up in such things!

-To you, Iori is just your average protective boyfriend who just wants to keep you safe! Reality is, he'll do anything to keep you safe and keep your heart with him.

-He would rather not go as far as to having to manipulate you into staying with him but he always makes sure to cater to exactly what you want and to make sure you truly just want him over everyone else.

-Similar to Kanata, he wouldn't dare to hurt anyone in your family. He knows how important family is and wouldn't ruin that for you. They're allowed to be as close to you as he is even though he still would like to keep your heart mostly to himself.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

#x reader #nian-anon #gender neutral reader #paradox live x reader #paradox live #iori x reader #iori suiseki #iori suiseki x reader #hajun x reader #hajun yeon #hajun yeon x reader #toma hikage x reader #toma x reader #toma hikage #kanata yatonokami #kanata x reader #kanata yatonokami x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for essentially making my friends be people's therapists?

(TW for discussion of suicide and self harm, nothing explicit)

This happened many years ago, when my friends and I were 13/14 and this went on for about a year. I had started a public discord server and, seeing how other public discord servers were functioning at the time, I added a vent channel. In retrospect, I have absolutely no idea why these exist in public servers, it's so clearly a recipe for disaster, but I digress. I only added it because I saw so many other public discords have a vent channel and I assumed it would be an outlet for people to vent out their simple frustrations of the day, nothing more than that.

Anyways, it was fine for a while but as our server grew in numbers, we started getting some members who would frequent the vent channel with very serious things. There are two who stand out to me in particular because of the amount of, well, emotional labor we had to do for them. My friends were moderators of the server (I had asked them when it started if they would like to be mods and they had agreed to this, and they were always free to step down, which some did) and so we liked to make sure our members were happy and okay so a lot of us tried to respond and help people in the vent channel, especially if it was something serious. Here's where the problem comes in.

There were many, many times we had to essentially try to talk down different members from suicide and self harm. We always had online resources for suicide/self harm help pinned in the channel, and we always urged people to seek them out but some people refused to use them or just ignored them. They would vent in the channel and say something drastic and we would rush to try and talk to them, to make sure they didn't do anything irreversible. It got to the point where we considered calling the police for one of them, but the person eventually said they were okay and we dropped it. We often stayed up late (I remember one night staying up until 1 am trying to help people with 3 of my friends) and sometimes we had to drop everything we were doing to try and help.

I understand now that that wasn't really our responsibility to help these people and we were absolutely not qualified, but in the moment we were just scared teens trying to do our best. The part where I'm worried I'm TA is that I'm definitely the one who created this situation by making the server's vent channel in the first place, and not taking it down at any point during all of that (it has since been deleted but the server is effectively shut down) even though I could clearly see the toll it was taking on my friends and I (I didn't keep it up for malicious intent I just didn't want to take that potential outlet away from people). Also, I worry we hurt these people more than helped them since we were just random middle schoolers trying to give mental health counseling to Internet strangers.

I've talked to my friends about it since then and we've all just agreed that it's something that happened we can't change now, and we should just move on, but I'm still unsure about the situation since my perspective is too entrenched in bias on whether or not this is all my fault.

So, AITA for creating the situation in the first place and letting it continue?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #self harm cw #suicide cw

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elronds-meleth-nin · 2 months

Text

Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 1: Flight

This is set just prior to the events of the first Hobbit movie, so take that how you will. I'll probably have four parts for this fic. If anyone wants to be tagged for any future fics or updates, let me know and I'll start a taglist. Anyway, this is my first LotR related fanfic, so enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven't seen RoP, and I don't plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving's Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously, I mean, he's over 6000 years old), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it rn so uh...don't think about it too hard).

~*~

"Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me, Lord Elrond," the Man said as the pair walked through Elvish halls. The stone was older than the Human by several thousands of years, yet the Elf lord was there when they were first carved into bricks for construction. "I know your schedule is full to bursting–"

"Nonsense. I am always pleased beyond measure to speak with you, mellon-nin," the Elf interjected as they walked into his study. "Tell me, how are your people holding up with this new threat?"

That was precisely why the Man had come to Rivendell, in the first place. Even as nomads, Orc attacks used to be few and far between for his people, happening perhaps once or twice a year, but in the last six months alone, they'd repelled four assaults. Their losses were becoming concerning. The Man, their leader, decided that the time had come to seek advice and possibly assistance from one much wiser than he.

"They are shaken...frightened by even the smallest of things. The snap of a twig, a particularly loud howl from the wind..." The Elven host offered his guest a seat near his bookshelves - a quiet nook which he reserved for serious conversations or quiet contemplating - and took in his haggard expression. That Elrond understood more than anything. Remaining strong when you were just as afraid as the people whom you were trying to protect was a difficult task. Such endeavors could wear heavily on even the most seasoned and confident of commanders. "They are doing their best to remain strong, but I must confess, I-I am becoming less certain every day about the wisdom of my insistence that we keep moving. Perhaps we should find one good, defensive position and dig in..."

Elrond could see his dilemma.

"But if you took such an action, you would feel as though you were cowering, is that not so?" He offered no judgment and no solutions. Not yet. He wanted to guide his friend along the path to finding his own answer, not force his hand in one direction or the other. That was not his place. That was not his purpose.

The sigh that escaped the Man's lips was ragged, and his shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of all Middle Earth was upon him.

"I know 'tis prideful, but our people have never shied away from a fight. To dig ourselves into a trench...that would feel too much like desperation. And, each time the Orcs returned, they would know exactly where to find us and how many more it would take to breach our defenses," he muttered running a hand through his hair. Once vibrant and full of color, the strands were flecked with gray. The Elf lord was reminded quite starkly of how much of a toll time took upon the mortals. A pang of sorrow twisted through his heart. After over six thousand years of life, he was well aware that death was a natural part of life for those species who were irrevocably tied to mortality, but his heart ached no less for his friend's eventual fate. "If we keep moving, though, they still manage to find us. Each attack grows in strength. Every time, more and more of my people fall upon enemy blades."

Elrond nodded his head with sympathy and understanding.

"Have your people offered any suggestions about what you might do?"

The Man stood abruptly and began pacing.

"Mekor put forth the idea of joining with a stationary settlement - just until the hoards are cleared, you understand," he said, but he shook his head. "I did not tell him, but the last time we were near several of the major cities, I...scouted ahead. I spoke with their leaders, explained our situation."

"And?"

"And, they all said the same thing: 'I cannot in good conscience allow you to draw such large numbers of orcs to our gates.' The difference is that they at least have gates behind which they can defend themselves," the Man paused near the window overlooking the valley. "And you know why I cannot go to the Rangers."

The Lord of Imladris drew in a deep breath and stood, making his way to his friend's side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any help that I could offer which you would accept, mellon?" His question was quiet and probing, yet free of judgment. Elrond knew well the pride of Men and their desire to act as independently as possible. That would not, however, stop him from helping where he could. He would even go so far as to bring these mortals into Rivendell to stay. It was, after all, a refuge for just such an occasion.

After a long moment of consideration, the Man cleared his throat and lifted his chin as if to preserve his dignity.

"Our swords are old. Chipped and cracking. Several shattered during the last skirmish. And our supply of arrows and bow strings is...woeful. The few who were skilled at replenishing both were killed two months ago."

"I'll have Lindir draw up a list of supplies. No matter how small your need is, please tell him everything. We are more than happy to give you whatever help you require," Elrond said, and he could have sworn that the Human's eyes were filling with unshed tears of gratitude. Neither Man nor Ellon mentioned it. Trying to restore his friend's smile, at least to a small degree, the Elf lord changed the subject. "Tell me, how is your daughter faring through all of this?"

The grin that stretched the Man's lips was warm; the love he held for his only child shone brightly in his eyes, restoring some semblance of youth to his weathered features.

"She believes that this is all one big adventure. Though she be only a few years old, she is curious...asking more questions than I rightly know how to answer," he stated proudly. "She has her mother's intellect, and I am glad of it. I am no teacher, but I've managed to convey to her the meaning of a few words of your language."

Surprise was surely evident upon Elrond's face at his friend's declaration.

"Mellon-nin, I am honored."

"She'll need to be able to communicate with your people once she discovers what she is." The Human reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book, flipping it open and retrieving a loose piece of paper. "My late wife, as you know, was the artist of the family, however..."

He trailed off as he offered the page to his host. Elrond took it carefully, looking at the sketch of a little girl.

"Your daughter?" He asked almost reverently as he took in her joyful expression. Even in this simple drawing he could see the intelligence behind her eyes. After a few moments' keen observation, he tried to hand the drawing back to the Man who'd created it but was gently refused.

"Keep it. I brought you that, my dear friend, because if something happens to me...I want you to be familiar with her likeness. It will likely be vastly outdated by the time you meet her, but 'tis better than nothing." The somber tone of voice made Lord Elrond pause. "She is more important to me than all of Middle Earth, and if...if the Orcs take me from her, I must know that someone in this world knows to look out for her..."

Setting the sketch on his desk, the Elf placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Should either of you ever need help, I will be there. She will have every protection that I can possibly afford her," he promised.

"There is...something else," the Man murmured looking into his friend's eyes. "It could be no more than an old man's imagination, but things have happened around her. Small things. Rain repelled from her as if it cannot touch her. Ripples in a pond by which she sits, though no breeze caressed the water's surface."

Elrond's posture straightened further at this new information. He knew that the blood of Númenor was thin in most, but if this was true, his friend's daughter might have a rare gift.

"Have no fear, mellon-nin. Your daughter will find her path, and if I can, I will gladly help her."

By the time of the Man's departure from Rivendell, Elrond had prepared a gift. With the weapons and extra supplies that he presented, the Lord of Imladris had one other item to offer. Opening a small, wooden box carved with Sindarin script, he revealed a silver necklace. The craftsmanship of his people was evident in the intricate curls and swirls of the metal. In the center was a forest green gem that, to the Man, seemed to glow with its own light.

"This is for your daughter. The pendant is a symbol of our protection - proof that she has favor with us. All she ever need do is show this to any Elf, and they will do whatever is necessary to assist her. If none of my people are near, she need only touch it and ask for help," Lord Elrond promised, and as if the gem could hear him, it pulsed with a warm, affectionate glow. The girl's father looked from the necklace to his friend, and this time a tear slid down his cheek as he offered his profuse gratitude. "I would be remiss to do anything less, mellon-nin."

After tucking the box safely away in his saddlebag, the Man embraced his friend. Neither knew that it would be for the last time.

"If you find yourself in danger, seek the elves of Rivendell."

My father repeated that to me more times than I could count as soon as I was old enough to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Our people were nomadic, constantly moving from place to place, setting up camp wherever we found ourselves. Every time we stopped, he made sure that I knew two things:

The first was the location of the nearest source of water.

The second was the way to Rivendell from our temporary encampment.

Long before I was brought into this world, my father ensured that we were on friendly terms with the steward of the valley. Each time we were even remotely close to Imladris, he made a point of speaking with the Elven lord.

Once, when I asked what Lord Elrond looked like, he brought out a small box of my mother's sketches. Rifling through them, he made a triumphant sound when he found the one he sought. Setting the box carefully aside on his bedroll, he had me sit beside him and turned the page toward me.

"The last time your mother and I visited, she made a point of drawing him. You must remember his face, my little love. One day you might need to request his help as I have done."

Much of the time, our wandering took us far from that sacred valley and the river that flowed before it. The final time that my father was able to visit, he brought back a gift. A necklace.

But it wasn't just a necklace. There was something about it that sent a wave of calm assurance through me. A sense of safety permeated my being every time I touched it. The cool metal seemed impervious to the elements, never rusting or tarnishing, as only the skill of the elves could accomplish. More than once over the years, I found myself looking at the pendant, wondering about the being who'd given me something so obviously unique on a whim.

Two decades and a handful of years later, I found myself sprinting through the trees with half of our remaining people. We were twelve desperate souls, flying through the underbrush with a hoard of Orcs behind us. Every few steps, I aimed an arrow behind me and prayed that it hit its mark upon my release.

"Come on! We're almost to the river!" I shouted, and my father's second in command, Mekor, let out an answering shout as we approached the ford. The snarls of Orcs and their Wargs nipped at our heels, urging us to move faster.

As much as it hurt, I was forced to ignore a terrified shout as the pack swallowed up one of our tired stragglers. This was a last ditch effort. If we stopped, we'd die.

Eleven.

Struggling for breath, I urged my people toward the sound of the Bruinen River and its eastern shore. Arrows from our pursuers flew through the trees, embedding themselves deeply within trunks and flesh alike. A few screams began and were silenced abruptly.

How many was that? Two? Four? No, we could count our dead once we were safe. Any who fell behind at this point were beyond our ability to save. Fifty Orcs against less than a dozen Humans? We would be lucky if any of our number survived the crossing.

Aiming another arrow backward, I allowed myself a moment's relief at the injured shriek of a Warg and the sickening crunch of its rider's bones as both crashed to the ground. Adrenaline rushed through me as the treeline appeared before us. The grass beneath our feet became a mix of pebbles and sand, rocks and mud.

"Quickly! Cross the river! Make for the eastern shore!" I shouted, and a few of the remaining people in our group echoed the sentiment. Two were cut down before they cleared the trees, their gurgling cries sending a bolt of helplessness through me even as I nocked and released arrows to buy time and space for my people. A few splashes reached my ears, and I prayed they'd make for the trees.

A yell of my name sounded from behind me.

"Come on! Get clear!" Mekor sounded much closer than I would've preferred. I needed him to live.

There were too many of them for me to hold off alone, so I turned and ran, beginning to cross the ford as quickly as I could. The pendant beneath my shirt thrummed against my skin, and an arrow whizzed by my ear so close that I could feel the displaced air from its fletching. That was too close for comfort. Much too close.

For the most part, the Orcs were afraid to cross into this territory. The Elves defended their land fiercely against such filth, after all, and very few of the cretins were stupid enough to seal their fate so definitively. However, a few who were brave enough - or perhaps foolish enough - to risk death started into the water after me. Not yet having reached the shore, I turned, grasping for arrows, but my quiver was empty. With a quiet oath, I turned and ran toward the trees. My boots were drenched, my lungs ached, and I blinked away sorrowful tears at having lost so many souls so quickly.

With a forest as ancient as this, the trees were rumored to whisper to each other and to those who remembered how to listen. The Elves listened.

Lord Elrond listened.

"Get to the trees!" I shouted, then I dug my hand into my shirt and grabbed the pendant. "Help us! Please! We're dying!"

The few brave Orcs who made it across and had not been shot down instantly apparently lent courage to their fellows. The Warg riders began to cross the racing waters, and I felt a horrible sense of dread settle into the pit of my stomach. The sight of boots disappearing into the trees was all well and good, but the Orcs would follow.

Someone had to make sure that they were distracted.

I had but one shot.

About an hour before he and his soldiers engaged the Orc hoard, Lord Elrond of Imladris had a vision. His gift of foresight showed a group of terrified Humans racing across the Bruinen with countless Orcs behind them. He was about to send out his guard, but the face of the young woman fighting so hard to protect the others made him pause.

He knew her face. She was older now - quite obviously an adult - but he still recognized the intelligence in her eyes and the determined set to her jaw.

More than that, the sparkle of the pendant that had escaped the collar of her shirt made him freeze. Icy dread washed over him as the vision changed to show her fleeing toward the trees. Her voice floated into his ears as easily as if she'd been standing right beside him.

"Help us! Please! We're dying!"

Elrond did not hesitate.

"Lindir!" He shouted as he began donning his armor. The younger Elf rushed into his lord's study. "Lindir, have my horse saddled. And ready a group of fighters. Hurry! Orcs are coming!"

When Elrond and his warriors caught sight of the group, the Orcs and Warg riders had just begun crossing the river. The glimpse he'd caught an hour before of her hair swishing over her shoulder as she fought repeated itself before his eyes, including her plea for help which now sounded as it should - like a whisper echoing through his very being, drawing him toward her. As he watched, she doubled back on her path, rushing back into the water.

She was trying to draw the focus of the Orcs away from her people - there weren't many Humans left. He urged his horse faster, his heart a racing drumbeat in his chest accompanying the galloping of his mount. He would not allow his friend's daughter to die within his borders while these lands were his to protect!

He'd just drawn his sword when the river's water began to whirl around her. Creating a wall between the Orcs and the remaining Humans, the water roared and flared with a shout from the woman. She lifted her arms, shoved them forward as if pushing a heavy weight, and the wall of water crashed over the majority of her enemies, washing them away as easily as pebbles in a current.

Magic. She'd performed magic! Her father had been right all those years ago.

But it was not the time to ponder her abilities. The time had come for him to fulfill his promise.

She'd bought just enough time for Elrond and his riders to reach the Orcs and cut down those who remained. Blades hissing and flashing, the Elves felled them easily.

By the time he turned back to the river, he saw her collapse onto the sandy bank, panting for air. He recognized the sight instantly: she'd overextended herself. Dismounting with a swish of his cloak, Elrond ran to her side, dropping to his knees and sheathing his blade before turning her gently onto her back.

Her glassy, exhausted gaze met his, and recognition flashed through her clever eyes.

"Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn." The words fell easily from her tongue despite how close she was to unconsciousness. She'd practiced them before.

"You have it, my lady," Elrond murmured, and almost as soon as the words passed his lips, her eyelids closed and she went limp in his grasp. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her close to his chest for one selfish moment, and with a few orders to his men to round up any survivors, the Elves brought their charges into the Hidden Valley.

~*~

Elvish Translations:

mellon-nin = my friend

Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn. = Elrond of Imladris, we need your protection.

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Elrond x Reader #slow burn

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play-rough · 1 month

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So kudos to the anon who expanded on Chuuya seeing Dazai in his playpen, it has me thinking thoughts about how sweet that was and I’d like to expand further.

Eventually when Chuuya and Kunikida build some trust and Chuuya gets past the feeling of not being needed (he’s SO needed), Chuuya stops by more often to visit his baby during his scheduled little time that Kunikida has in place. 🥹 (and Chuuyas impressed bc the mackerel actually getting the appropriate amount of drop time? He’d never expect that lmao) And ofc that leads to Kunikida calling him when Dazai gets a little too rowdy or sad, or when things are extra busy. And THAT leads to soukoku growing closer again enough that Dazai willingly goes to Chuuyas to hang out (even when he’s not little) etc

WAIT and maybe like in a setting after dead apple - it was sooooo stressful for babyzai that he drops later on and Chuuya’s like should I call Kunikida bc he has to report to Mori right? But dazai feels so sad bc especially after a mission he doesn’t want to be separated so they compromise. Kunikida looks after babyzai for a while until he can turn in his report and get a quick nap, then he collects the baby from Kunikida (who’s grateful, but doesn’t want to say it in front of babyzai bc he’s also looking after Ranpo and two littles is a lot sometimes.)

So Chuuya, who’s still pretty tired, brings the baby home to the perfect nest of blankets and fishie and cuddles. Taking care of Dazai is helpful for his own relaxation too sometimes and the emotional toll of corruption is best supported by babyzai time. I’m just a big fan of Chuuya and Kunikida being co-caregivers bc Dazai deserves the love and care. (Bonus points if skk have budding feelings for each other - separate from the classification ofc!!)

Sorry this is long I just had so many thoughts, thank you to the other anon bc 🥺🥺🥺 that was sweet as hell I’m gonna bit my phone.

-🦕

I definitely need to have Kunikida and Chuuya share custody somehow, it would just be cruel to take the baby away from Kuni 😭 ur right Dazai deserves the constant care, even if he’s not dropped someone has to keep an eye on that troublemaker

I also love the idea of Chuuya’s favorite way of decompressing from corruption be hanging out with the baby 😭🤧

#💌#dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #bsd au #sfw agere #🦕 anon

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non-bionical-mecha-dude · 1 year

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Hello! I was wondering if I could request Rise! or 2012 boys with a human reader that can shapeshift into animals?? Thank you for reading this and I Hope you have a good day and or night^^

ALLLLLLRIGHTY! Since ya didn't specify if you wanted a one shot or Headcannons, I'm gonna assume Headcannons (sorry if that's not what you wanted..) and I'll do Rise.

ALSO, to all the people who have requested stuff for different things (cause there are like 35 requests I haven't gotten to) I WILL EVENTUALLY GET TO THEM I SWEAR, I've been busy with musical theatre and the tolls of overworking, so, I'm trying as hard as I can to get them to all of you all!!

ROTTMNT Boys x Shapeshifter!Y/N

🐢❤️Raph❤️🐢

JENDKABEUWNALQOESWN

He's so happy like, when he figures it out, he feels like his head is gonna explode

Like, he loves animals so much, especially the smaller ones, and when he sees that you can do this, he is fawning over you, wondering what animals you can turn into

Constantly snuggling up against you when you are some sort of mammal

You once shifted to be an alligator snapping turtle, and ngl, it freaked him out a bit

His favorite animal for you to turn into is a chinchilla

You're so tiny and fluffy, you're like a cuter fluffier squirrel

Gushing over you 24/7

You two like to look up cool animals to see what you can turn into

If turning into animals uses a lot of energy, will definitely cuddle you and reminds you to take breaks after you shift

Whenever he has a bad day, you like to shift into the softest creatures you can so he can pet you

Is very worried about crushing you all the time

You have to reassure him that he won't crush you

Sometimes when you shift as a bird, you like to perch on his shoulder

Whenever you're in animal form, he likes to give you lil forehead kisses, or he'll just bonk his turtle beak against your head and it's adorable

When you shifted one time, he almost stepped on you, and he has never forgiven himself

You know when you step on a dogs paw? That's what he felt when he almost stepped on you

🐢💙Leo💙🐢

He thought it was so cool

He likes to see what ras animal you can turn into

One time when Donnie knocked on his door, you shapeshifted into a tiger, while he sat on a makeshift throne of pillows, and pretended to be some benevolent king, Don was definitely annoyed, but you both got a kick out of it

Whenever you shift as a cool big animal, like a lion or bear or horse, he tries to get on your back, and you've let him a couple times, but it's even funnier when he tries to be cool, and you just decide "lol no"

Sometimes you guys like to play hide an seek, but with powers, and honestly, it's so much more difficult and fun

He asked if you could shift into a cheetah, and wanted to see who was faster, you in cheetah form, or him (spoiler alert, it was you, but he tried to convince you it was because you were cheating, and he made a stupid pun out of it that made you giggle)

Has definitely cuddled with you whenever you shift into a mammal

Found it kinda cool when you shifted into a red-eared slider

Called you mini Leo for a while, and ever since then, you've never shifted into a turtle lol

He asked you that if you got a disease only animals could get, and if you shifted into a human, if you would be cured

You both sat there for an hour trying to figure it out

Definitely calls you more pet names

Definitely makes more puns

And truth or dare is alot more fun with you

🐢💜Donnie💜🐢

SCIENCE SCIENCE THEORY'S

Makes so many theories and science with your mystic powers

Asks many many questions

You have definitely shifted into small mammals, and just sit on his desk while he works

Pranks his brothers so much more with you as his accomplice

Has definitely confused you with some random animal before, and didn't realize it wasn't you until it was to late

Definitely embarrassed by that

Definitely asks you if you can help him when it comes to small hard to reach places with his inventions

One time he called you his "darling dearest" as he explained something, then when he turned his back, you turned into a deer. (Darling Deer-est lol I'm funny)

He didn't speak to you for a week LMAO

Anytime he has any overloads, you transform into a big soft mammal, and cuddle him until he calms down

Sometimes when you shift as a bird, you perch on one of his shoulders, and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N perches on the other

His brothers always comment it reminds them of Baron Draxum, but he's not complaining that much about it

You both celebrate Flat Fuck Friday and become flat-ass pancakes on the floor

You have scared him so many times on accident when you shift into small animals

Talks about your genetical and molecular make up and how your powers change that alot

And frankly you don't know

Gets kinda upset when many of your answers are just "magic" but understands

🐢🧡Mikey🧡🐢

Just like Raph, he's fucking estatic

Bouncing all over the walls for you

Loves to see what kind of animals you can shift into

Has mistaken random animals for you

Whenever you shift as an animal and want to eat something, he gets nervous cause he isn't sure if your kind of animal can eat that

Whenever he wips around in the air, you like to shift into a bird and glide with him through the air

Ever since the encounter with the Beaver/Gopher band, he absolutely forbids you from shifting into them lol

But you still do just to mess with him

You both like to come up with different tricks depending on different animals

Has definitely compared you to Beast Boy before

If you ever get tired from shifting, he doesn't allow you to shift unless you've rested

And he brings out doctor delicate touch if you don't want to rest even if you're dead tired

Loves cuddling with you when you're a super big or super small mammal

He's not sure why, but he loves it when you shift into a lizard, especially a chameleon

He found it so cool when you shifted into a box turtle and you and him chilled in your shells

You both make inside jokes about each of your animals forms

If very touchy with you, often either on your back when you are a big bear or tiger, having you on his head or shoulder when you're a rodent, ECT ECT

If he has a fear of a certain animal, you help him alot with them, by turning into them and showing him how harmless and non scary they are

Has definitely painted each of your different forms before

Big snuggler

Likes to hang out with both you and Mayhem

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deanwinchesterpregnant · 10 months

Text

route 70 blues

When I was little, Dad taught us how the highways go: evens from east to west and odds from north to south. Starting up in Boston there's Route 90, all the way to Seattle. And then the 5 from the border at Blaine, through Seattle and down to the border at Chula Vista. Route 80 from New York, Route 70 from Maryland. And so on and so forth.

Route 70 was my favorite. There's an exit in Breezewood, Pennsylvania, and it looks like every exit on the east coast, but it was special to me because it had a McDonalds that Dad was always willing to stop at. Those were the days that you’d get the little slip that would tell you how much to pay based on which exit you were taking and there was a toll booth at Breezewood. I used to get a kick out of telling Dad how much he owed. Dean would never let me put one of those EZ-passes on Baby’s windshield, and now I just keep a couple $20s in the glovebox or pay the bills when they come in the mail. The car’s registered to a real address now.

We spent a lot of time on Route 70. Straight through a couple flyover states and ending in Utah. When Dean and I would play the alphabet game, we’d race to see who could spot the Zanesville, Ohio water tower first to get the Z and win it all. We would bet stupid shit on winning that game: who would have to clean Dad’s Colt next, who would have to cast iron bullets next. Who would have to make the beds at the next motel that would be home. That sort of thing.

But the main thing I remember about Route 70 was the way the sun would shine through the windows of the Impala once we’d get out of the green of the Kansas City suburbs and before we’d get into the Rockies. There was this little stretch where the fields turned tan with dead corn and wheat, and we’d stopped in a town called Burlington to sleep for the night on our way to a case in Moab.

It's a postage stamp town. There was a truck stop called Love’s and a motel named for the town, which was where we’d fueled up and then bedded down. I must’ve been about newly 16, Dean 20 and full of false-bravado. Dad was letting him go off on solo hunts more and more often by then, but he and I were together in the car at the time. I had been a steady passenger in the front seat by that point. And I remember – the sun was shining, and there were no trees to dapple it, and it hit Dean’s face just right. His freckles were finally coming back out in the May warmth and his eyes looked almost clear. He had a little grin on his face, the right side of his mouth pulled up as he nodded along to CCR’s Cosmo’s Factory cassette. Ramble Tamble was the opening track on the B-side. I always bitched about Dean’s music taste, but I didn’t mind the swamp rock so much. And I liked Ramble Tamble, because it reminded me of us. Drifting. A big long guitar solo that made Dean smile and made me think about moving from town to town.

Back then, I hated the way we lived, but I liked that the way we lived was something just Dean and I understood. Something just for us. No matter how many kids I couldn’t make friends with in school, eventually I'd get back in the car with Dean. And down the road we’d go.

In Burlington, Colorado, I knew I was in love with Dean. I knew it in that moment with the sun shining, with Dean's hands tapping on the steering wheel and John Fogerty crooning along in the background. I knew it in the way we’d share the motel bed since Dad only ever got rooms with two queens, and I knew it in the way that Dean would clean the guns next even though he’d spotted the Zanesville water tower first.

I'd wanted to lean over and kiss him. Instead, I'd said, “This is the tape with Up Around the Bend on it, right? I like this one.”

And he'd said: “Sammy, you might have some good music taste after all!” It'd made my chest bloom, and I loved him. I’d hold that inside for another decade before I said anything, and by that point, we were both doomed.

— for @wincestwednesdays "americana"

#don't @ me abt the past participle vs past tense i HATE IT #wincest wednesday #wincest #spike words #ww ficlet

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

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Hi! First of all, your stories are giving me so much comfort, you have no idea! And I don't know if you are accepting requests or anything, but I was on a bus home today, daydreaming as I always do, and a story idea popped up, and I don't know, maybe you are willing to give it a try to write it. Anyway...

I was listening to Moncrieff's song Warm while commuting and it made me think of a reader (won't lie, I imagined myself ehehehe) and Joe - maybe they are friends but she feels more, and maybe she finds a silver lining in everything that bothers him, encourages him and Joe is not really if his feelings are there yet, but he is definitely thinking more about her in a certain way. So, the idea is that he is so stressed out, so many things are going on, and he is being pulled apart by the industry, colleagues, people around him, journalists, and he finds himself spiralling and then one day he calls her, despite the time difference and she answers, sleepy and whatnot, and that's when he realises that she is the one.

I found that Moncrieff song so nice and I don't know, listen to it if you'd like, and if you won't write it or anything, it's okay. I just had to get it off my chest..

omg more people need to do this, this song is BEAUTIFUL hope you like what I've done with your request <3 Wordcount: 1.3K

---

Homesick

“Joe?” you answered, the thick of sleep in your voice clearly detectable over the phone.

“Hey,” Joe instantly regretted not checking what time it was in London before he called.

“My God, you better have a good excuse to call me at a quarter past six on a Friday morning.”

Earlier that evening, Joe had shut the door behind him and had let out a deep sigh. Homesick. He had really felt it then and recognized that the annoying negativity he’d been dragging around on his shoulders was a longing for home. He felt so far removed, now across the Atlantic in a city deeply impersonal to him and he wished he could will himself back into his flat in London.

London. Where he knew to find the exact spot of the bathroom light switch when he would reach for it in the dark of night. Where there were cups of strong builder’s tea just the way he liked it. Where there were after work drinks at pubs that would be filled to the brim with others who had the same idea when they walked out of their office buildings at 5. Where people responded to your “sorry” with their “sorry”. Where you were, right now.

Joe’s days in LA were complex, and his job involved many aspects he didn’t have any control over which started taking its toll on him. Especially now that he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a few days. On long days like this one, people would almost seem to handle him like he wasn’t a human being at all. They were all smiles and kind words, but the hours he’d have to work felt inhumane. They asked a lot from him. And that’s not to forget that when Joe would eventually find himself in the comfort and silence of the rented apartment, he’d be up late reading scripts, rehearsing lines, doing self-tapes and deep diving Wikipedia pages in research of characters he would audition for later in the week.

It left him frustrated, moody and snappy, which wasn’t Joe’s default setting, and he actively disliked this version of himself. It didn’t help that the days had started piling together and he’d let it build without mentioning it to anyone. He knew he had to when he’d taken a shower and het let the emotion hurt him in his throat rather than getting it out of his system by having a cry.

There only seemed one solution to his problem, besides actually cutting his trip short which he knew he couldn’t do, but he felt a little apprehensive. Should he bother you with this? You had bigger fish to fry at home – you didn’t need to listen to Joe complain about opportunities he’d been working towards for so many years. But he just wanted to hear your voice. He knew you’d at least be kind enough to make him feel better. Joe remembered how you’d celebrated his upcoming trip with him. The one he was on now. It felt entirely effusive, he’d been on many trips before for his career, but you knew this one would be different. “I know I’ve said it before, but I can feel it, Joe. I can feel it right here.” You pointed to where Joe thought your spleen was located. “I think this is where my conscience sits.” You laughed. “Trust me, you’re going to come back and not recognize this face, so let me pay for your beers tonight so you’ll at least owe me when you get back.” You’d dragged him along to a pub, pride shining out of your eyes at what Joe’s future held. Prouder of me than my own mother, Joe thought.

You and Joe had been friends for too long. You always joked that you crowbarred your way into his life and squeezed yourself in between Joe’s intrusive thoughts and insecurities. A heavy bench to perch yourself on, but your light could easily overtake that darkness within Joe’s mind. And he loved you for it, but it made meeting potential girlfriends so much more difficult, because none of them seemed to live up to what you brought him. They’d be so pretty, but then not as funny as you were. Or they’d be so funny, but they’d lack your soft care for him. Or they’d care so much, but would only listen to Joe and then not do anything to cheer him up. It was always something that didn’t feel right. You were hogging the seat on that bench in his mind that was reserved for a lover. And Joe knew it wasn’t smart, but he let you.

“Sorry,” Joe heard movement of duvet covers as you turned over in your bed. “It’s still Thursday here.” He chuckled through a wince.

A couple of seconds of silence followed, and Joe imagined you in the dark of your bedroom, tucked up in your bed with your phone pressed to your ear and your eyes still closed.

“How’s LA?” you asked, threateningly close to drifting off to sleep again.

“It’s great.” But then you heard it in Joe’s voice, he stitch of melancholy, and you forced your eyes open. Joe wasn’t doing okay.

“That bad?”

“No, really. It’s great! It’s just… it’s a lot.” Joe let his head fall back against the sofa he was sat on.

“Were you expecting it not to be?” Joe could hear the smile that played on your face. He was fine with you poking a little fun, knowing it would give way for bickering that held every potential to lighten his mood.

“You don’t really know what it’s like until you’re here. Until you’re in it.” He defended.

“You sound tired,” you observed. “Get some sleep, it’ll all feel better in the morning.” Your advice filled Joe’s chest with warmth. He knew you were right. “I’m so jealous I’m not there,” you noticed the rain hitting your bedroom windows hard. “It’s really pissing it down here at the moment.”

Joe closed his eyes. He’d love some rain right now, even if it was just to reflect his mood.

“You wouldn’t like it here. This place is heartless.” Joe didn’t exactly have the highest of expectations of LA before having visited, but the way homelessness and decay laid around the corner of the glamour and shine of Hollywood had left a bad taste in his mouth.

“You just say that because your heart’s in London.” You reasoned.

With you, Joe thought.

“How many days until you’re back?” you stifled a yawn, prompting Joe to do the same.

“Too many… like, eleven?” Joe wasn’t sure. “Maybe ten.”

And as you started getting ready to slowly ease yourself into your last day of work before the weekend, Joe started getting ready to finish his day and prepared himself for bed. It was almost as if you were there with him in LA, and simultaneously he was there with you in London.

You chatted about an issue at work as you both brushed your teeth – Joe could barely make out the words. Joe talked about an amazing restaurant he’d been to as you got dressed. The company he’d been in had ruined the experience, so next time, he said, he’d go there with you. You did your make-up as you offered Joe advice on how to find the silver linings, reminding him he was doing good things, great things for himself out there. Joe washed his face as he absorbed every bit of positivity from you that leaked through the speaker of his phone.

And when you opened the curtains in your living room, you could hear Joe close the curtains in his bedroom.

“Goodnight Joey, turn that big brain off, all right? Count to infinity if you must.”

“Have a good day at work,”

“Love you, sleep tight.” You tried your best to say it as a friend, but the butterflies in your stomach seeped through, just... slightly.

“Love you.” Joe tried his best to say it as more than a friend, hearing your butterflies and feeling his own in response.

—

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 - add yourself

#homesick #joe quinn #joseph quinn #fanfiction #requested #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #moncrieff #warm

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bbangsuns · 1 year

Text

all the things we tried to forget | r.c

requested?: no, but it’s been over a year since i put anything out and decided i needed to start writing again. there will be a part two!

part 2

pairing?: rafe cameron x gn!pogue!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of rafe’s drug addiction, i think that’s it? i also tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. there’s not a lot of dialogue either

a/n: english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any grammar mistakes or any issues with the way it’s written. i used bee as the nickname because it’s something my childhood best friend would call me, but you can change it to whatever you want!

word count: 1.2k

you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment everything changed and started falling apart right in front of you. one moment, he’s your sweet, patient, and loving boyfriend, the one you fell in love with when you were 14 years old; the next, he’s temperamental and distant, constantly making up excuses as to why he can’t be with you. but the worst part? you knew exactly what he was doing, yet you stayed by his side and shook off every excuse with a small smile and a quiet ‘it’s okay baby, i love you. we can always reschedule.’

this situation was taking such a toll on you that you often spent the nights alone sobbing quietly to yourself in rafe’s room or at the château, venting to the pogues about everything that was haunting you—whether rafe still loved you, if he still wanted to be with you, if the relationship was worth it at this point. that last one was what hurt the most because you had been hopelessly in love with the boy for the last 5 years, and you couldn’t stand to lose him, but you also couldn’t stay in a relationship knowing he would inevitably choose drugs over you once again.

“bee, what happened? are you hurt?” jj and kie had asked you one day when you showed up to john b’s house in tears, not knowing where else to go or what to do. you had rushed over after a nasty fight with rafe, with him spewing some of the nastiest words that have ever been said to you.

— at the cameron household —

“god i wish you would leave me the fuck alone! do you know how annoying it is to have a girlfriend clinging to you like some fucking leech? do you know how embarrassing it is when kelce makes fun of me for it? no you don’t!” rafe had practically screamed in your face. his words didn’t end there, though.

“i wish i would’ve listened to kelce and topper’s suggestions of just fucking you and ditching you afterwards. at least that way i wouldn’t have to deal with someone being up my ass all the time and trying to control my decisions. or maybe, i should date one of the many little kooks that have given me their number.”

that last comment made you freeze, looking up at rafe with anger, hurt and disbelief written all over your face and in your eyes. he knew just how insecure you could be sometimes, especially because he was constantly criticized for dating a “dirty pogue”, causing other girls, especially kooks, to try and get him to leave you, to get with someone ‘better’ and prettier. all you could do was scoff at him and push him out of the way, rushing out of the cameron household and to your car, speeding off to the chateau knowing it’s the only place you could go to.

— with the pogues —

“bee? are you okay, bub?” sarah was now standing in front of you, her hands on your shoulders as she softly shook you to get you out of the memory of what happened just a few minutes before.

you shook your head vigorously, not knowing how to get the words out without your voice breaking the entire time. you walked into the house and sat on the pullout couch, your hands tugging at your hair harshly as you laid your head in them. kie quickly rushed over and wrapped her arms around your shoulder, shushing you and pulling your hands away from your head while pope grabbed some water and tissues for you. eventually, your breathing calmed down and the pressure from your chest lifted, allowing you to finally speak, albeit hoarsely.

“our relationship is completely falling apart and i don’t know how to stop it. he’s not the same boy i fell in love with” you had confessed so quietly that your best friends would’ve missed it if they weren’t listened so intently. you couldn’t look up at them, fearing that they’d have that look of pity that would send you into hysterics again, so you stared at your hands, playing with the ring on your thumb, the one that rafe had bought you for your birthday 2 years ago. staring at the ring, you wondered how things turned sour so suddenly, if there was a way to prevent the last few months from happening. maybe you weren’t good enough for him to confide in you, maybe he was tired of you and your nagging and decided that drugs were better comfort than you could ever provide, maybe—

you were pulled from your thoughts by john b sitting next to you and kie squeezing your hands, making you turn your attention to them. john b was the first to speak, his words shocking you lightly.

“look y/n, i know rafe isn’t the greatest person, especially when it comes to pogues. but with you, you’ve always been able to get through to him and make him realize what he’s doing is shitty. i know this isn’t exactly the same as picking a fight with jj or pope, so that may be why he hasn’t come to his senses yet. maybe you have to approach this situation a little more aggressively.”

kie nodded her head to john b’s words, adding her own thoughts at the end.

“you might have to provide an ultimatum to really get him to see how badly this has affected you: he either chooses you or the drugs.”

at her words, your heart dropped and you felt the pressure in your chest coming back ten times stronger. however, you pushed that to the side as best you could and swallowed harshly, knowing that they were right. you felt your lower lip trembling and your eyes filling with tears once again but you blinked quickly, not wanting to cry anymore.

“i know, i know it’s what i have to do. i’ve tried talking to him, telling him he can always open up to me about what happens between him and ward but he always blows up on me. god, you should’ve seen him right now at his house. it’s like a completely different person was in front of me.”

you’d always despised saying things like that, especially about rafe but it was the simple, ugly truth—he simply wasn’t the same and he desperately needed help.

“i think deep down, the rafe that you fell in love with is still in there. he might just need that big push to start showing him again, and hopefully this does that because if i’m being honest, i miss my brother too.” sarah whispered to you on your left side, making you smile sadly and lean into her, knowing that rafe’s behavior has taken a major toll on her as well. you spoke up again, your voice stronger this time.

you know what, you’re all right. i’m gonna talk to him tomorrow when he’s sober and hopefully more levelheaded. i can’t stay in a relationship where i’m just an afterthought, because no matter how much i love him, i will not allow myself to be hurt this way anymore.”

you were determined to get your old rafe back, but if he decided getting high and drunk was more important to him than you were, then you’d have no choice but to walk away from your relationship and him, despite the fact that it would absolutely kill you inside.

#( aria’s version 🕸️)#rafe cameron imagines #outer banks imagine #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey #outer banks drabble #outer banks

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